


I see right through you

by Gomar_Mpt



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Bitchy sassy Louis because he's my favourite, I'm Niall's girlfriend because that's MY fiction, Journalist Louis, Larry Stylinson Is Real, Loads of fluff and a tiny bit of smut, M/M, Quirky Harry, Student Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-20
Updated: 2014-11-20
Packaged: 2018-02-26 09:16:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2646551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gomar_Mpt/pseuds/Gomar_Mpt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Louis thinks his new neighbour is a big weirdo. But that does not stop him from paper-window-chatting with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I see right through you

**Author's Note:**

> A massive thank you to my betas Mayo and Carlin for reading this twice and still being able to look me in the eyes. This fiction is inspired by a true story so keep faith!  
> That's my first fiction, hope you'll like it.  
> Perfect playlist while reading it: Sam Smith <3

The light was on in the kitchen but the weird boy was nowhere to be found. He was there five minutes ago, wearing a red apron (an apron, really?) and cooking with the music on. It looked like he was singing along with the music. But as Louis was fixing himself a bowl of cereals (less fancy than a homemade diner involving a pan, yes, but Louis had tried that before and nearly intoxicated himself to death so he’s leaving that to Weird Boy) he turned his head and looked through the window in the opposite apartment. The pan was still on, as well as the toaster, from which smoke was coming out. Louis was wondering where the boy could be.

 

The boy moved in about a week ago, replacing the old lady who used to shout at Louis whenever she saw him. Louis was not unhappy to see her go, not that he didn’t like being yelled at for no reason, mind you. The apartment was right opposite to his, in the building facing his, and the disposition seemed to be the same. The first day the boy came in it was with a lot of boxes and with a blonde guy helping him carrying those. He settled in in a day, which Louis found quite odd knowing that he had needed about a month to open all his boxes. He would have lasted longer if his best friend Zayn didn’t threatened him to throw them by the window. Nice friend, Zayn.

 

The Weird Boy’s flat was looking quite strange from what Louis could see. Which is why he decided to call him Weird Boy. In his head, obviously. The furniture did not fit together, there were way too many photos or posters (or God knows what) covering the walls and the boy, for some obscure reason, decided to keep the ugly couch that belonged to the old lady. Other than his poor taste in decoration, the boy had these weird habits of talking to his cat (not very different from the old lady really), reading on the couch with his head down and his legs up in the air, and of course wearing an apron. Which only added to the nickname. Plus, he had weird curly hair. Just all quirky, not that Louis was spying on him.

 

Right now though, the boy was not in his kitchen and the smoke coming from the toaster was quickly turning into flames. Louis headed to his bedroom and opened the window. The boy was in his bedroom, talking to his cat, as if it was the most natural thing to do when your toaster is turning into a fireplace. Louis came back to the kitchen and saw the flames growing. Surely the boy must have smelled something. Why was he not moving? Why was he still in his bedroom while his kitchen was about to burn? Louis went back to his open window and tried to call out for the boy. “Hey!… HEY!” But the boy’s window was closed and with the music he could not hear a thing. Louis was starting to think that he should leave it alone and go back to his abandoned cereals, which were probably getting soft. As he was about to do just so, his conscience caught him. He probably shouldn’t let his new neighbour die just after a week. Plus, wasn’t it failure to assist a person in danger?

 

Louis took the first sheet of paper he found, the nearest pen and after a few seconds of reflexion, he wrote “YOUR TOASTER IS BURNING!!!” (exclamation marks for emphasis). He took the paper in one hand and waved his free hand, hoping he could get the boy’s attention. The boy finally turned his head to the side and Louis held the sign for him to see. Louis didn’t know if the boy could make out the letters from where he was. Fortunately, the boy seemed to understand, fear flashing on his face before he ran out to the kitchen. Louis followed him and saw him trying to contain the flames. Once he was sure the boy was handling the situation, he went back to his cereals. Which were soft.

 

Fuck. Fuck those weird boys with burning toaster issues.

 

That night, Louis went to bed early and as he was about to close the curtains he gave a quick glance to the boy’s bedroom. The boy was not in it but the light was on and that’s when Louis noticed the paper on the window. It said “THANK YOU :)”.

 

 

***

 

 

It started out as a game really.

 

One day, as Louis was watching some crappy telly after a draining day at work, something caught his attention. As he rose from the couch and went to the window, he saw Weird Boy waving at him. It had been three days since the toaster incident and Louis had totally not been spying on the boy, not looking if he was there every time he passed a window. Weird Boy was smiling at him, waving his hand with the enthusiasm of a child and Louis was starting to feel like an animal at the zoo. Without so much of a glance, he sat back on his couch. What did this creep want? Louis saved his life, the guy thanked him, end of the story. There was no need to wave hands and smile whenever they saw each other. They didn’t know each other a tiny bit. Louis didn’t even know Weird Boy’s real name!

 

It seemed like the boy was thinking the same thing though. As Louis was about to take a shower, he quickly looked through the window and noticed another piece of paper on the boy’s window. This one said “WHAT’S YOUR NAME?”

 

Louis went straight to the shower. He was not going to paper-window-chat with his neighbour. He did it once, and it was just to save the stupid boy’s life. Louis was mature, he was not going to write his name on a paper and put it on his window for Weird Boy to see. After a quick shower, he went to bed with the strong intention of catching up on some sleep. An hour later, he was still lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. He quickly got out of bed and looked through the window. The paper was still there, on the boy’s window. The bedroom was empty though.

 

As he was about to go back to sleep, a door opened behind the boy’s bedroom and the guy came out of what seemed to be his bathroom, with nothing on but a pair of tiny black pants. Louis was starting to feel like a real creep, watching the boy in his underwear, hidden by the dark of his room. But he could not stop staring. From where he was standing, Louis could not make out details about the boy’s body, but he could definitely see that he was fit. Pretty fit. Nice little body. Weird Boy turned off the light and Louis waited a few minutes in darkness, not knowing what to do. He was even less tired after what he just witnessed. Without thinking too much, Louis replied “YOU FIRST” on a paper and stuck it on his window. Turns out he slept much better after that.

 

The day after was a drag. Of course, Louis loved his job. Not many young men of twenty-three years old could boast about working at GQ. Especially for the Style section, which had been his dream since he was a teenager. Even if he was still an intern, there was no doubt that he would soon get a promotion. Today though, time passed slower than usual. Which had nothing to do with the fact that Louis kept thinking about Weird Boy. He was not wondering if he would find out what his name was. Nope.

 

Coming back from work, Louis found indeed another note on the boy’s window. “HARRY :)”. And, seriously, what was up with the smiley faces? Louis was NOT going to answer Harry. Weird Boy. Damn it. He was not going to tell him his name. He called Zayn, asking to meet him at the pub. And he tried not to listen to the voice in his head telling him that he was simply looking for a distraction.

 

Two days later, after avoiding coming home except for sleeping, dragging Zayn in all the pubs he could think of, Louis was back to his flat. For good. As he was eating some take away leftovers (remember, not good with cooking), he watched through the window. Weird Boy-Harry was reading on his ugly couch with his head down and his legs up, the cat sleeping on his belly. Nice combo of strangeness. Once again, without thinking twice, Louis headed to his bedroom and wrote down “LOUIS”. No smiley faces.

 

 

***

 

“Louis, why is there a creepy guy waving at you?”

 

Louis was setting the beers on the coffee table in front of the telly, getting ready to watch the football game. He asked Zayn to watch it with him, even though Zayn was not really a football fan. Or a sport fan in general.

 

“What are you talking about?” Louis followed Zayn to the window and there he was. Harry. Waving at Louis with his unfazed smile.

 

“Is that the guy you were talking about, the one who replaced Mrs Read?”

 

“Who?”

 

“Mrs Read, the old lady who used to live there”. And oh, unbelievable.

 

“Wait, how do you know the old lunatic’s name?”

 

“I helped her a few times carrying her shopping bags.” Of course he would. “Anyway” Zayn repeated, “why is this creep waving at you?”

 

“Harry”

 

“What?”

 

“His name”

 

“Oh he has a name now? Harry is it? I thought he was Weird Boy”. Stupid Zayn and his stupid smirk. “When did you two meet?” Zayn raised an eyebrow and now he was really looking like the model Louis work with for last month’s cover of GQ. Except Louis was not going to rip off his best friend’s clothes.

 

“We never met” Louis answered, sitting down on the couch.

 

“How d’you know his name then? Care to explain?”

 

“The game is about to start, would you stop being an arse?”

 

 “Who’s being an arse” Zayn muttered, following him to the couch.

 

The game was not even as entertaining as Louis thought it would be. At half-time he stood up to get another beer. Zayn staring at his phone in utter concentration, his back to Louis, Louis glanced at Harry’s flat. The blonde guy who helped him move in was there. Harry’s head was thrown back with laughter at something the blonde guy must have said. Hu. They seemed to be having fun. Also, why did Louis care? He didn’t know Harry. If anything, Harry might be a proper twat. A proper twat who waved at Louis and drew him smiley faces.

 

“Where’s my beer? Or did you forget it while you were staring at _Harry_?” Louis should probably reconsider inviting Zayn. Or being friend with him for that matter.

 

The rest of the evening went by and when Zayn left, Louis realized it was still early. He stood by the window and saw Harry and the blonde guy chatting. Louis wanted to know what they were saying. He wanted to know what Harry’s voice sounded like. He wanted to know what he liked to talk about. Wait, what? No. Louis was not interested in knowing Harry. Must be the beer. For what he knew, Harry could be in a relationship with the blonde guy. He went to bed before he could do something stupid.

 

The next day, before living for work, Louis saw that Harry had hanged a piece of paper to his window. “HOW R U LOUIS?” Creep. It had been a week since the awkward exchanging name thing and Louis was starting to think he’d never heard from Harry again. Smiling to himself, Louis left the flat.

 

***

 

A few weeks passed, Louis getting his promotion and working more than ever. Everytime he’d come back home he’d look through the window. Everyday without fail he would find a paper stuck on Harry’s window. They mostly exchanged about silly things, like their favourite song, favourite sport team… Louis already knew a few facts about Harry though: he was twenty years old, was from Cheshire, had a sister and his cat’s name was Marcel. What a ridiculous name for a cat. It totally did not make Louis smile.

 

It was becoming kind of distracting, is the thing. At work Louis would find himself wondering what he could ask Harry next. It had to stop. Besides, who was exchanging like this with their neighbour? That was just weird.

 

That day, Louis tried to ignore Harry and his stupid notes, not glancing once at the boy’s flat. As always, he found a distraction in Zayn, inviting him to get pissed. It was Friday night after all. They were comfortably drinking their third beer, chatting about Zayn’s last piece of art (he was very seriously considering Tattoo as an art and one better not contradict him about it) when they heard loud music coming from outside. Zayn went by the window and turned around to look at Louis with an annoying smirk on his lips.

 

“Looks like _Harry_ ’s having a little party”. Louis stood up and saw Harry in his living room with the blonde guy ( _again_ ) and a short-dark-haired guy. That’s the moment Harry chose to snap his head around and notice Louis. As usual, he waved and smiled. Harry’s friends looked at Louis then, and Louis ran off to his room.

 

“Louis what the fuck? The guy was waving at you and you totally ignored him! Not cool mate!”

 

“Like you care!”

 

“Wait, where are you going?”

 

“Need to take a shit!” He closed the door behind him and was about to slap himself in the face when he saw a light turning on. Harry followed him from his own flat. He was looking confused. He wrote something down and held it for Louis to see. “U OK?” Louis just shrugged. Harry wrote something else. “HAVING A PARTY, U WANNA COME”. Before Louis had time to reply, Harry held another paper with what appeared to be the rest of the sentence: “WITH YOUR FRIEND?” Friend, yeah… Louis might need to reconsider that. With a sigh, Louis wrote “NO” and showed it to Harry. He saw hurt flashing on the younger boy’s face but before he could do something else, Harry was writing again. “PLEASE COME :)”. This little game had to stop. It was not healthy. Louis held his “NO” sign and Harry responded by holding “PLEASE COME :)” again.

 

Looking at Harry’s bright smile, Louis sighed, resigned, and wrote something else. “OK”. He just had time to see Harry’s smile deepened before he ran off to the living room where he found a bored Zayn on his couch. “Take your jacket, we’re going to a party!”

 

***

 

In the lift, Louis realized he was going to meet Harry. In real life. It hit him like a train. They were about to exchange their first words. That is if papers do not count as real words of course. Biting his nails, Louis was already regretting his decision. He shouldn’t have come. They should have stayed at his place and gotten pissed like they were supposed to. At least he had Zayn with him, which hopefully will make the whole situation less awkward. Although bringing Zayn was probably not the best idea ever. He was staring at Louis with his little smirk and waited until they got to Harry’s floor to speak.

 

“You nervous?”

 

“What? Of course no I’m not nervous.”

 

“You _are_ nervous! Finally meeting the boy of your dreams! Proper love and all!”

 

“Shut up!”

 

Before he could change his mind and turn back, Zayn rang the doorbell. Louis heard the voices come closer and as he was about to faint, the door opened and Harry was standing right in front of him.

 

Which. Wow. The boy was even fitter from up-close. He was a bit taller than Louis, he was wearing the skinniest jeans Louis had ever seen (and Louis worked for a men’s style magazine) and a shirt almost entirely unbuttoned revealing his tattooed chest ( _interesting_ ). His brown curls were falling around his face and Louis wanted to run his hands through them. And over his chest. He had a mouth made to be kissed, preferably by Louis. But what affected Louis the most were Harry’s eyes. He couldn’t see them from his apartment, but they were a lovely shade of green. Pretty.

 

“Louis, hi!”

 

Louis shivered. Harry had such a deep voice. That was it. Louis was losing it. Feeling both Harry and Zayn staring at him, he tried to remember how to speak.

 

“Hi”. Harry then noticed Zayn and turned to him, which gave Louis the opportunity to get a grip and mentally slap himself. “And you are?”

 

“I’m Zayn, hi!”

 

“Well please come on in!”

 

As Louis seemed to be unable to move, Zayn passed him by. “This is going to be interesting” he whispered and Louis thought about killing him slowly in his sleep.

 

The living room was actually not that bad. Of course the ugly old couch was still here, standing in the middle of the room like an abandoned ship, but the pictures on the wall gave Louis a warm feeling. “This is Niall” Harry said, gesturing at the blonde guy. Niall waved at them. “Hi! How are you?” He had a strong Irish accent and a nice smile, but Louis was still looking at him suspiciously, what with the fact that this Niall could be Harry’s boyfriend. Not that he cared.

 

“And this is Liam” Harry began again. “Hi” the brown-haired guy said, though he hadn’t looked at Louis once. Louis turned around to follow his gaze and found out that Zayn was very still, staring back at Liam. Well well, who’s smirking now? “Hi” Zayn replied in a voice that Louis had never heard before (and they knew each other for years).

 

Five minutes later, they were all sat around the coffee table, Liam and Zayn side by side and Niall between them and Louis. Harry had sat on the floor, next to Louis’s end of the couch. Louis learned that they were all in their last year of university. Harry and Niall were studying music together and Liam was studying business at the same university. “Sometimes they play together” Liam said. “Niall plays guitar and Harry sings. He sings very well, you should hear him!”. Louis had no doubt Harry sang very well, what with his deep, gravelly, _lovely_ voice. Great, Louis was just starting to pull himself together and now he just learned that Harry could sing. Perfect.

 

“And you two, what do you do?” Liam asked, genuinely interested.

 

“Well” Louis said, “this fucker right here is a tattoo artist…”

 

“A tattoo artist!” Liam interrupted, looking at Zayn with big bright eyes. “That is so cool!”

 

 _“Oh yes, don’t mind me”_ Louis thought. Liam looked so enthusiast and Zayn was smiling at him like he just told him the best compliment of the world. Disgusting. “And you, what do you do Louis?” Harry asked, turning his attention to Louis. And, these eyes. Louis didn’t think he could ever grow used to these eyes. Not that he would need to get used to them.

 

“Uh, I work for GQ”.

 

“Isn’t that the magazine you read Harry?” Niall said. “He’s a big fan of that kind of stuff!” he added, looking at Louis. “I think that’s where he gets weird ideas like wearing his shirt opened like that”.

 

“It’s not opened!” Harry replied, frowning. _Fuck, he’s even cute when he’s frowning_.

 

“Well that’s funny” Zayn interrupted, and who asked him, really? “because Louis works for the style section of GQ!”

 

“You do? That’s sick! That’s my favourite section!” said Harry, looking at Louis with his big, charming smile. _Of fucking course it is_.

 

“Really? Well I’m glad you like it, thanks”.

 

The rest of the evening went by without incident, although Harry almost tripped over the couch when he went to the kitchen to bring more beers. Zayn and Liam didn’t seem to notice though, both chatting like they only had eyes for each other. “I seriously don’t understand why you kept this antique in your flat” Louis told Harry. “If that was me I would have get rid of the thing by now”. Harry quirked an eyebrow. “You mean the couch?” he said, passing Louis a beer. “Mrs Read gave it to me, I thought it was kind of nice of her”. Mrs Read of course. Everyone seemed to know the old lady’s name except Louis.

 

“I guess it’d be nice if it wasn’t full of mites” Louis said, which only made Harry smile wider.

 

“Well, that was nice but I gotta go!” Niall interrupted, getting up. “Haz, thanks for the drinks”. _Haz_. Nickname. They were definitely together. “Sure you don’t wanna stay longer?” Harry asked him, and of course he wanted his boyfriend to stay. That made sense. “Can’t, I promised my lovely girlfriend I’d go see her tonight, and you know how she is, French and all…”. Girlfriend. Ah. Maybe Louis had misinterpreted something after all.

 

After hugging Niall goodbye, Harry came back to the couch, next to Louis. That close, Harry smelled really good and God, even his smell. What was wrong with this boy? He must have some dark secret, what with his perfect body and perfect face and perfect _smell_. Lifting his eyes from Harry’s lips to his eyes, Louis realized that Harry was looking at him with a questioning look and ah, Louis must have missed the question. “Hu?”

 

“I said I never thanked you by the way. I mean not in person.”

 

“For what?” Louis asked, confused.

 

“For saving my life.” Yes, of course, the toaster.

 

“Well, who am I to let pretty boys die in fires?” Smooth Tomlinson, smooth. Harry was smiling at him though, so widely that two little dimples appeared in his cheeks. _I’m screwed_.

 

“You know” Harry said “I’m always wondering if you’re going to answer my notes. I’m glad you do in the end. I’m really happy to finally meet you Louis.” Louis felt a blush creeping across his cheeks. That was really not like him, blushing like a little girl in front of her first crush, and loosing the ability to speak. He was Louis Tomlinson for fuck’s sake! Successful, sexy and confident Louis Tomlinson who was working for one of the biggest men magazine, who was constantly surrounded by models for his work and who shagged most of said models. And there he was, in front of this curious young man who was in his eyes more beautiful than any model Louis had ever seen. And that would be okay if Harry wasn’t also the nicest, sweetest human being.

 

“Yeah, me too… Really happy.”

 

Louis was interrupted by the cat (Marcel) who chose this moment to roughly jump on him. He took that as his clue to leave. “Zayn, you coming?”

 

“Hu yeah, yeah just a moment.” Zayn was still in deep conversation with Liam and the guy looked like his world was falling apart when Zayn stood up. While they were saying goodbye (Louis saw Zayn grab his phone from the table and he made a mental note to ask Zayn about that later), Louis turned to Harry. “Well, thanks again Harry. For the evening.”

 

Harry beamed at him while moving closer to the door. “My pleasure, really. We should do that again sometime. Soon”. _Yeah we should definitely do that soon_.

 

Zayn finally moved from the couch (and from Liam, really) but he was very quiet in the lift. Too quiet for Louis’s liking. “Sooo, Liam?” Louis said, wiggling his eyebrows. _Payback time_.

 

“What Liam?”

 

“You like him don’t you?”

 

“He’s nice I guess.”

 

“Is that why you took his number?”

 

“Louis”

 

“Oh so what now, you can mock me all you want but I can’t?”

 

“Yeah about that, how’s Harry? Did he reach your expectations?”

 

“Expectations? _Really_ Zayn?”

 

“You didn’t answer the question” Zayn said, smirking.

 

“He’s… really nice”. He definitely reached Louis’s expectations. Sure Harry was already nice before he actually met him. He would ask Louis all sorts of things, sometimes questions that first seemed weird to Louis but that he grew to like. He was still weird of course but instead of annoying Louis, his habits made him smile. And in real life, well… In real life Harry was beautiful, kind and had a lot of common with Louis. And there was a chance he was single.

 

“Sure this has nothing to do with the way he wears his shirt…” Zayn added, still smiling like he knew Louis too well.

 

“Just shut up!”

 

“Alright mate, I’ll shut up! I’ll just leave you so you can dream about his perfect curls or whatever.” They parted way and Louis fell on his bed, exhausted by the events of the night.

 

That night, he didn’t dream about curls. Green eyes though…

 

***

 

A few days after the evening at Harry’s, Louis was in his kitchen when he saw the boy again.

 

They hadn’t talked since that night and it was driving Louis slightly crazy. He didn’t really know what to think. He liked the boy (he finally decided to admit it to himself) but he didn’t know if the feeling was mutual, or even if Harry was gay. Louis glanced at every window in Harry’s flat looking for a note but nothing came. He was loosing it. He decided to grow a pair (in his own words) and to ask Harry on a date. He’d have a clear answer and would be able to move on in case Harry wasn’t interested. Which he hoped wouldn’t happen. That’s when he realized he didn’t ask Harry for his number. Fuck. With no sign of the younger man, he could do nothing but wait.

 

That night, he was hesitating between ordering pizza or sushi when Harry _finally_ appeared. He waved at Louis (for a change). This time though, Louis waved and smiled back. Harry fumbled around and seconds later he was writing something down. They could probably open their windows and speak like normal people but they grew used to this, their own way of communicating. It was unique and it was theirs, and at that point neither of them seemed like they wanted to stop.

 

“MAKING FAJITAS, WANNA COME?” Louis grinned and nodded before leaving his flat in a hurry, abandoning his pizza/sushi plan.

 

Harry opened the door with his most beautiful dimpled smile and Louis forgot how to breathe. Harry had already started cooking and it smelled delicious. “ _Perfect, so I can add ‘great cook’ to his list of qualities_ ” Louis thought as he entered the kitchen.

 

“I hope you’re hungry, I may have shopped for a dozen people” Harry joked.

 

“Well we can still invite Niall, I reckon he can help us. Do you remember how he ate that whole bag of crisps by himself?” Harry laughed and Louis felt a warm feeling all over his body. Uh.

 

“No, he would probably eat everything. Besides I want it to be just you and me.” Harry said with a shy smile. _Please Lord have mercy_.

 

“Can I help you with something?” Louis offered, trying desperately to change the subject.

 

“Yes you can chop the vegetables if that’s okay with you?”

 

“Uh. Yeah sure. How do I do that?”

 

Laughing, Harry moved behind Louis to show him and _oh,_ that was just the scene’s remake of a bad romantic comedy from the eighties. Yet, it was kind of nice, Harry smelled as good as the first time and his slow voice was like syrup in Louis’s ear, his strong arms brushing Louis’s… Right, paying attention to the cooking lesson.

 

“Got it?” Harry asked, moving back to his pan. _No, come back!_

“Got it”.

 

“You don’t cook much, do you?” Harry asked, carefully.

 

“How very dare you? I make mean toasts”.

 

“That’s what I thought.” Harry said, smirking.

 

“Hey, careful curly, I’m armed!” Louis replied, holding his knife.

 

“You wouldn’t” Harry said with a smug face that Louis was not prepared for. Was he flirting?

 

“Probably not” Louis replied with a soft smile, and Harry _blushed_. Oh, so he was flirting in the end. And if Louis wasn’t indifferent to Harry’s charm, Harry wasn’t better off. Good to know.

 

They cooked for a while, talking about Louis’s work and Harry’s music. When Louis turned around to grab another knife, he caught Harry checking out his bum. The younger man quickly averted his gaze, blushing. “ _Finally, a clear sign_ ” Louis thought.

 

They ate on the kitchen counter and Louis realized he never ate fajitas as good as Harry’s.

 

“This is delicious Harry!”

 

“Thanks” Harry said, blushing. “Do you like red wine?” he added, holding a bottle.

 

“Sure.”

 

Harry poured them two glasses. “So I was thinking” he said, “I wrote this new song, it’s kind of sad but I really like it and with Niall’s guitar it sounds just perfect, and…” Louis didn’t pay attention to the rest of Harry’s thoughts. With the red wine, Harry’s lips were a darker shade of pink and Louis couldn’t stop staring at them moving while Harry was talking.

 

“…going to Holmes Chapel but… Louis?”

 

“Uh?” Louis felt his cheek reddening (not for the first time of the evening). He realized he missed the whole conversation. Well, more like the whole Harry’s monologue. “Sorry! I… I’d love to hear your music!”

 

Harry grinned. “Sure, we’re doing a little show in this bar I told you about in two weeks with Niall, you should come.”

 

***

 

After eating, they sat on the couch with another bottle of wine. Louis was feeling a nice buzz from the alcohol and Harry kept talking as slowly as ever. An hour later, Harry put on some music, trying to initiate Louis to indie rock. The song was nice but not as nice as Harry’s presence next to him. The thing is, Louis didn’t really care about indie music, but he cared about Harry. So he tried to act like he was interested.

 

“That’s a great song.”

 

When Harry beamed at him though, Louis suddenly blurted out “You really have pretty lips.”

 

Harry blushed before answering, “So I’ve been told.”

 

Without second thought, Louis kissed him. Harry seemed caught off guard and Louis was starting to think he was too forward but after a few seconds Harry kissed back. His lips were so plumped and soft. Harry deepened the kiss and somehow Louis ended up on Harry’s lap. He tangled his hands in Harry’s hair and tilted the boy’s head back. Harry’s hands travelled from Louis’s thighs to his lower back, under his shirt, making Louis shiver. Harry broke the kiss and they were both left gasping for air. He stared into Louis’s eyes and his gaze was so intense that Louis tried not to rip his clothes off just yet. The idea of doing anything on the old lady’s couch, where she used to knit, was a bit of a turn off. Thankfully, Harry thought the same thing and, sliding his hands under Louis’s thighs, he carried him to his bed.

 

Harry took his shirt off before crawling on Louis who was already in his pants. Louis could not believe what was happening. He moaned when Harry pulled their underwear off, his lips finding Louis’s neck and sucking the skin there.

 

“Fuck.” Louis groaned when Harry grabbed his dick and he lost all focus on the task at hand. “Where’s your stuff?” he asked, breathlessly.

 

“Bedside table, first drawer” Harry replied, panting. Louis reached for the lube and condoms and shoved them into Harry’s hands.

 

“You… you want me to”

 

“Yes” Louis interrupted, before pushing himself on his elbows to kiss Harry’s hesitation off his face. They stayed like that for a while, just kissing, before Louis cleared his throat.

 

“Right” Harry said, before opening the lube.

 

He opened Louis up with his fingers, slowly and carefully, until Louis was panting and begging. “God, stop teasing!” Louis said and Harry took his fingers out and pushed gently inside Louis. Louis tangled his legs around Harry’s waist and Harry started rocking his hips. After a few thrusts, Louis came with a loud moan and Harry followed seconds later.

 

“Fuck.” Harry breathed as he flopped down on the bed next to Louis.

 

“Yeah.” Louis looked Harry in the eyes and they burst into laughter, both sticky, sweaty and out of breath. “That was… wow.”

 

“I know.” Harry replied, smugly.

 

“Hey!” Louis exclaimed, shoving Harry’s arm.

 

The younger boy smiled fondly before kissing Louis, nice and slow. “You know” he said, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time”.

 

“We’ve only met a week ago.”

 

“Yeah well, I feel like I’ve known you for longer than that. I mean, we kind of knew each other before we actually met so…”

 

“What kind of drugs are you on, Harry?”

 

Harry laughed and moved closer to Louis. He thumbed Louis’s cheek before kissing him again. Louis was so gone for this boy.

 

Harry somehow ended up lying on Louis’s chest. “Harry, I can’t breathe”.

 

“I know, me neither.”

 

“No, I mean you’re crushing me.”

 

“Oh, sorry.” With that, he slid from Louis, resting only his head and his arm on the older boy’s chest. Louis was about to make another comment when he heard soft snores. He fell asleep with Harry’s warm body beside him.

 

***

 

Louis woke up with a warm presence on his back. He needed a few seconds to recognize the arm around his waist as Harry’s. He felt steady breathing in his neck and smiled to himself. The events of the night before came back to his mind. He hadn’t really plan to have sex with Harry on their first date and he didn’t know if he could even call this a date. But, well, things got a little out of hand, so to speak. Louis was starting to fall asleep again when he realized it was Friday. He gabbed Harry’s alarm on the bedside table and read 09:00.

 

Fuck.

 

He had to be at work in half an hour. Great. He untangled himself carefully from Harry’s embrace. The boy was so peaceful that Louis didn’t want to wake him up. Thankfully, Harry seemed to be a heavy sleeper. Louis grabbed his discarded clothes all around the room and dressed himself. He glanced one last time to Harry before leaving. He looked so young with his curls falling on his face and his mouth slightly open. When Louis had left the bed, Harry had curled up on himself and that was probably the most endearing sight that Louis had ever seen.

 

He left the flat, crossed the road and went back to his own apartment. He took one of the quickest shower of his life before, put on some fresh clothes and left for work. No time for a cuppa. Well, he’d get one at work.

 

The day went by quickly. Louis was working on a new article and couldn’t stop picturing Harry in the clothes he was writing about. He would look so lovely. At lunch, he thought about sending Harry a message, before realizing that he _still_ didn’t have his number. Bugger. He’d just have to write a note when he’d come back from work. Instead he just sent a message to Zayn.

 

_“Zaynie baby, crazy night with Harry yesterday, got to tell you all about it!”_

 

The response came into seconds: _“Please don’t.”_

_“You’re no fun, maybe it’s time you get laid.”_

_“Working on it. Now please let me wash my brain from images of you and Harry.”_

What a friend, as always.

 

Louis came back to his flat and immediately peered into Harry’s flat. It was empty. He probably went to attend a class. Louis was seriously starting to regret not to have asked for his number. He grabbed a piece of paper and considered his options. After a few seconds of intense reflexion, he wrote down “I WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN”. Maybe that was a bit forward. Once again, they already had sex so nothing could be too forward.

 

He stuck the paper on his window and grabbed a beer in his fridge. It was 07:00pm, Harry would probably come back soon from Uni and maybe he could cook Louis some of his amazing dishes. Not that Louis was only interested in his cooking skills of course.

 

Time passed and still no sign of Harry. Louis ordered a large pizza, thinking that if Harry would come back now he could eat it with Louis. He watched a football game but every five minutes he’d stood up to see if Harry was there. He wasn’t.

 

At 11:00pm, Louis was resigned. Harry wasn’t probably going to come back tonight. Louis was exhausted, what with the night before and his day of work. He took a long shower, trying to relax, and went to bed. He couldn’t sleep though. He had a bad feeling about this. Why was Harry still not home? Louis found sleep eventually.

 

He woke up the next morning with a knot in his stomach. He went to his kitchen, put the kettle on and peered into Harry’s flat. Still nothing. While he was fixing himself a warm cup of tea, the light turned on in Harry’s living room. Louis came closer to the window and saw someone coming from Harry’s bedroom. _Finally_ he thought, smiling to himself. He was ready to wave at Harry when he realized the man who got out of the room wasn’t Harry. He was tall, thin and he had a messy brown quiff on his head. He looked older than Louis. But the worst part was that the man was wearing nothing else but his underwear. He was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and Louis felt cold all over his body. Who was this _man_ in Harry’s flat, in Harry’s _kitchen_ now, and why was he almost naked?

 

Louis couldn’t believe his eyes. So that was it. Louis was just a one-night stand and Harry was onto his next one. That couldn’t be true, what with the way Harry talked to him, the way he smiled and kissed Louis. He thought about what Harry said that night: _“I feel like I’ve known you for longer than that”_. Maybe Louis didn’t know Harry that well after all. Maybe Harry had a thing for older men. Humiliated, Louis went to his room and ripped his note apart before throwing it in the bin. He felt so stupid. The best night of his life went crashing down in minutes.

 

***

 

Louis spent the rest of the day on his couch, eating leftovers of the pizza he bought the night before (the large pizza he thought he could share with Harry) and watching crappy telly, trying to change his mind. He had closed all the curtains, too ashamed of himself. He didn’t want to see Harry. He hoped Harry hadn’t have time to see the note and realized Louis wanted more from him.

 

He was through his third stupid show when Zayn called. “Yeah?”

 

“You sound like shit” Zayn replied, and oh thanks for stating the obvious.

 

“Well hello to you too!” Louis said, voice full of sarcasm.

 

“What’s wrong?” Zayn immediately said, worry in his voice. That was the best part of being friend with Zayn. He knew Louis so well that he just knew when something was off. Maybe he wasn’t such a bad friend after all. Maybe Louis would keep him.

 

Louis told him the whole story: his (unforgettable) night with Harry, the day after, the note and the old-quiffed-not-that-good-looking-man coming out of Harry’s bedroom in his underwear.

 

“Shit mate, I’m sorry” Zayn said, full of empathy. “You wanna get pissed tonight?”

 

“M’not really in the mood.”

 

“Come on Louis, it’s Saturday night and you spent all day in your flat, you got to clear your head.”

 

They agreed to meet at their favourite pub at 09:00pm. Louis spent his evening complaining about all of Harry’s qualities, his perfect face, his perfect fajitas, his perfect voice, his perfect smell, until Zayn, clearly tired of it, tried to change the subject.

 

“What’d you think about this one?”

 

“Zayn, I’m really not ready for anyone else.”

 

“I’m not talking about a relationship Louis, I’m suggesting a _rebound_ guy.” Zayn replied, sipping on his second beer.

 

Louis looked in the direction Zayn was looking at. The guy was tall, muscular, quite good looking. Definitely Louis’s type. He wasn’t Harry though.

 

“Thanks but I don’t think I’m ready for that either.” He said with a smile. “Anyway, enough about me. What about you? What’s up with Liam?”

 

“Uh, you know” Zayn said, moving uncomfortably on his chair. “We’ve been on a few dates. It’s fun.” The way he said it suggested that it was more than fun though.

 

Louis grinned at him. “That’s great! _You_ do things in the right order. Dates before sex. I’m happy for you. He looks like a great guy.”

 

“He is.” Zayn replied, fondly.

 

They stayed at the pub until closing time and Louis was definitely drunk, what with the amount of shots he got offered by cute guys. He came back home with Zayn though. He held Louis, physically supporting him until they were at Louis’s place and Zayn helped him get into bed. Louis was thankful for having such a good friend and may have told him so, he didn’t know if it was just in his head or not.

 

He fell asleep before Zayn even left the building and, the alcohol helping, he spelt like a rock. A dreamless sleep.

 

***

 

On Sunday, Louis woke up completely shitfaced with the worst headache of his life. Maybe not the worst. The thing is, Louis had been this hangovered many times before but usually he’d have picked up a guy. Today though, there was no guy in his bed and Louis tried very hard not to think about this non-existing guy being Harry. His curtains were still shut and he hadn’t found the courage to open them and face the fact that he was the biggest fool on earth. He didn’t want to see Harry and his new hook-up. Maybe it was still the quiffed guy from the other day, which only made it worse because that would mean Harry really liked the guy. Right?

 

He spent the day recovering from his hangover, drinking liters of water and eating all the junk food stocked in his kitchen. He tried not to feel desperate about his miserable life but the fact that it was a Sunday didn’t help. He went to bed early and struggled to find sleep.

 

On Monday, Louis decided he needed to forget about Harry and his stupid smile, his stupid music, his stupid weirdness. He worked until late, doing all the tasks that he hadn’t find the time to do when he was too busy thinking about Harry. Focusing on his work was a very good distraction but when he came back to his cold and empty flat, he just felt _lonely_.

 

He was about to take a good shower when he heard a knock on the door. Zayn wasn’t supposed to come tonight. With a sigh, Louis opened the door and there he was. Harry. Beautiful as ever and _smiling_. Well good for him if this whole situation was just a big joke.

 

“Hi Louis” he said with his charming voice.

 

Louis frowned. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Uh, a lady entered the building as I was about to ring your bell so I got up with her.”

 

“Not what I asked.”

 

Harry was looking confused. “What do you mean?”

 

“Well I’m asking what you are doing _here_ , at my door.”

 

“Uh I got your… your note and I wanted to see you too so-”

 

“That’s rich!” Louis interrupted. “Why don’t you just go back to whoever you’re screwing Harry?” He was almost yelling when Mr. Cowell, his neighbour, opened his door and stared at the boys with a very serious and scary face. That was not the kind of guy you wanted to mess up with. Louis gestured at Harry to come in and closed the door behind him.

 

Louis sighed. “Harry, I really don’t know what you’re doing here but if it’s just a sick kind of joke to you-”

 

“Louis!” Harry interrupted. He sounded hurt. “What are you talking about? You wrote that you wanted to see me again and now you sound like you don’t and-”

 

“Are you fucking joking?! I saw this guy coming from your bedroom Harry! Almost naked! I left you that note on Friday and you have the fucking nerve to come here _now_ and act all innocent like you genuinely don’t know what I’m talking about!” Louis was screaming by the time he finished talking and Harry looked at him like he just had some fucking epiphany. What a twat. An attractive twat.

 

“Louis, I wasn’t here this weekend. I was in Holmes Chapel at my mom’s.”

 

“Right, that’s why I saw a guy naked in your kitchen.”

 

“Louis, you’ve got to believe me!” Harry said, hopeless. “I was in Holmes Chapel and the guy you saw is Nick, he’s a friend of mine and he stayed at my place to feed the cat! He saw your note and he texted me and I was so happy and I wanted to text you, tell you that I wanted to see you too but I realized I didn’t have your number.” Harry said, breathless. “I should have just asked Liam to ask Zayn for your number but I thought it was more… hum… romantic to come see you directly.”

 

Well.

 

Louis was now staring at Harry with wide eyes. He was frozen and Harry looked at him with a genuine smile. So, if all that was true…

 

“You… you’re telling me that you weren’t here last weekend?” he asked, carefully.

 

Harry nodded.

 

“You were in Holmes Chapel, at your mom’s?”

 

Another nod. “Pretty sure I said so, that night” he said with a small smile.

 

“And this guy is a friend of yours?”

 

“Yes. Just a friend.”

 

“You never..?”

 

“Nope.”

 

Alright. Alright.

 

“I… I’m sorry” Louis said, mortified. He looked down at his feet before adding “I just… You didn’t answer, I waited, it drove me crazy and then I saw this bloke and… I really thought you didn’t care about me. That I was just some one-night stand.”

 

Harry was smiling now. “Louis” he started again. “What I told you that night… about how I’ve been waiting for this, I meant it. I _mean_ it. I want to see you. I want more than just see you in fact, I kind of want to date you actually.”

 

He was blushing and Louis felt like the biggest idiot of the world. Again. He smiled back at Harry. “I thought you said that because we just had sex.”

 

Harry laughed. “No, no it was more than that. Although the sex was good.” He wiggled his eyebrows and Louis laughed, for the first time since he last saw Harry.

 

“So what do you say?” Harry asked, voice full of hope.

 

“About what?”

 

“About dating me.”

 

Louis grinned at him. “Yes. But please give me your fucking number right now.”

 

Harry beamed and came closer to Louis before adding. “Are we done now? Because I really want to kiss your stupid face right now.”

 

Louis rolled his eyes before closing the gap between them. Harry cupped his face with his hands and stroked his cheeks with his thumbs before leaning forward and kissing him. Only then Louis realized how much he had missed kissing Harry. They kissed slowly for what felt like hours and when they broke the kiss, they were both grinning at each other. Louis gave Harry a quick peck on his lips and, putting his hand on his wrist, he headed to his bedroom, tugging Harry along with him.

 

“You’re not leaving anymore.” Louis said, still smiling. “I don’t care if you have to see your mother, you’re never leaving this place!”

 

Harry laughed and followed without resistance.

 

***

 

The next morning, Louis woke up with a note on the pillow next to his. It was Harry’s number, followed by _“Please call me. :)_ _xx”_. He never liked smiley faces that much.


End file.
